


A Funny Kind of Love

by TempestCain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Food Kink, Gen, Hogwarts Era, Other, Post-Hogwarts, Semi-crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestCain/pseuds/TempestCain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He would never forget the day he saw it." It ensnared him all the way from when he first set eyes upon the glorious creation. Until Nearly Headless Nick ruined it all. Follow Ron Weasley through a tale of love, loss and reunion. CHICKRON One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Funny Kind of Love

He would never forget the day he saw it.

It was just after he had been sorted into Gryffindor. He took his place on the mahogany bench next to Harry. He smiled at Harry, relieved that he was placed into the same house as the rest of his siblings as well as his friend. The one who stood up for him when Malfoy was being a jerk.

After the last of the children had been called, he watched as Professor McGonagall stood up and walked away, clutching the now rolled up Sorting Hat in her arms. Dumbledore stood up and addressed the students. He was saying something about the 3rd floor corridor being off limits, but Ron wasn't really paying attention. He was playing around with his reflection in the goblet, while Hermione looked on disapprovingly.

He was startled by the sudden clapping of the students, but didn't join in, for his eyes fell upon something else. It was piled up in a beautiful pyramid. Its aroma washed over him, making him feel as if nothing could go wrong. It taunted him with its hauntingly beautiful, golden-brown skin. His arm began moving of its own accord, reaching out to take it. The wonderful fried chicken.

It felt amazing in his hands. The rough, crunchy texture of its skin caressed his palms, as if it was supposed to be there all along. He held it up to his lips, lost in his own world, and inhaled deeply. Yes. It was his forever. He parted his lips by a fraction and allowed a small portion of the chicken to pass through his lips.

Its flavor exploded in his mouth. The sweet, succulent juice of the chicken caressed the insides of his mouth, holding him in a loving embrace. He found himself wanting more and more of the beautiful chicken, but it was disappearing fast. He reached for another one. Another to join the small pile of chicken resting on his plate, when suddenly a head appeared. He nearly screamed in shock. What happened to his chicken?

The incident scarred him. He could no longer look at what he loved without the image of Nearly Headless Nick popping in his mind. He distanced himself from it. But he could never stop himself from looking longingly across the table at his love. His fried chicken.

Many years passed. The war passed. Throughout all that time he could not thinking about his one love. He was sure it missed him too.

Hermione didn't understand. Harry didn't understand. His family doesn't understand why he stands by the window and sighs. They don't understand why he stares longingly at an empty spot on the table. No one understands.

His one love. His true love. Torn away from him by Nearly Headless Nick. This is the reason why he felt reluctant to join Harry at the Deathday party. He could no longer look upon the face of the Gryffindor Tower without feeling the pain inside. The echoing cries of his love. He could only watch as people ate it. Not knowing the true meaning of fried chicken. Not feeling the way he did when he ate it. He turns away when they eat it. To hide the tears streaming down his face. Tears which go to waste because he knows they can never be together.

_The love. The tears. The feeling of longing_

_Oh the treacherous pain prolonging_

Nineteen years have passed. He walks through a grocery store, like any normal Muggle would do. He passes by the vegetables, barely even saving a glance. He walks through the dairy section as if it was not there. He reaches the beginning of the frozens, where he stops.

_My love, my dear love, why did I go?_

_Nothing can stop this turbulent flow_

_Of emotions, the likes of which I cannot hide_

_Until you are with me, by my side_

His hand curls into a fist as it rests by his side. It's time. Time he overcame his fear and reunite with his love. He pushes the shopping trolley across the line marking the beginning. He continues on until he spots it. Chicken. No. The pain is too great. It attacks him in flashbacks, flashbacks so terrible he almost breaks down in the middle of the grocery store, crying. He runs out of there, leaving the trolley behind, and apparates home.

_My darling, my love, my sweet honey bliss_

_Won't you give me one more kiss?_

_The pain, Oh! The pain!_

_It drives me insane!_

He stands still by the window, staring off into space. Brooding, waiting, when he hears Hermione call him downstairs. He walks down the stairs in a daze, like a star that has lost its light. He takes his place at the side of the table, right next to Hermione.

And thats when he smells its sweet aroma. The scent of a love he thought was long gone. His fried chicken.

_Through thick and through thin, it is you I will love_

_It is the dark forest which I have walked out of_

_Thanks to your love, which has never failed me_

_You have opened my eyes, so that I may see_

_My chicken, oh how I love thee_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this was a sort of crack!fic. I'm not sure if many people here have heard of Chickron, a ship inspired by that one scene in the Philosopher's Stone when Ron was eagerly eating chicken.


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